Let me tell you the story of my death:
Carving words on the bark of a tree
A poem that means life to me.
Glows through night, my soul delights!
"Exist beyond my death, oh please...
So I could live in bliss at least."
But they cut the tree, so mindlessly
Illegally. Damn, selfishly!
In chainsaw, I was murdered.
... a massacre of my every being!!
I'm a ghost that forgot, the best in me
Now writes relentlessly
To relive the words, once killed in greed
I found the "papers*", the poems you lead...
Then before me, is some piece of me
I died a hero,
Readers who found their hearts, in death of the writers. Is but ONE.